Obsessing

So, I woke up this morning and guess what? I knew how to solve at least two of those stupid test problems! I didn't study last night; I didn't copy the questions in question and try to figure them out. I stayed home pouting about how badly I'd done, and watching a fairly dumb movie. But this morning I woke up knowing the problems (and I mean exact numbers) I was given to solve, and knowing just what to do anyway.

Stinky Problem #1:
Some stadium or other sells 33,000 seats; some of them are general seating for $4 each, and some are reserved seating for $13 each. They bring in $222,000. How many general seats and how many reserved seats did they sell?

Could I solve this yesterday afternoon? NO!!! I just sat there freaking out because I knew I should know how to do it, and trying everything I could imagine, and then finally left it unfinished.

I wake up this morning and, Bing! Here's how to do it:

G = general seating; R = reserved seating —OK?
So, G + R = 33,000 (general seats plus reserved seats equal the total amt. of seats sold).
4G = 13R = 222,000 ($4 per general seats plus $13 per reserved seat equals the total amt. of money brought in.)
To use the process of elimination I will get rid of the G from each equation. So I multiply the first problem by - 4, getting - 4(G + R = 33,000), or - 4G - 13R = -132,000. Follow?
Now I add that new problem I just created to the second problem and I get:
- 4G - 4R = - 132,000
+ 4G + 13R = 222,000 and the answer is:
9R = 90,000 or
R = 10,000

Since I now know that R = 10,000 I can figure out that G = 23,000 pretty easily. So the answer is:
They sold 23,000 general seating tickets and 10,000 reserved seating tickets. (And, yes, it checks out.)

See!!! I can do this! And it was easy besides!! And I could shoot myself for not being able to do it on the test yesterday! AAARRRRGH!!!

Stinky Problem #2: You row downstream with a 4 mph current at your back and you travel 94 miles. You come back only 47 miles in the same amount of time. At what rate do you row in still water? (Although I think saying "still water" is making an assumption.)
This morning I realized that I was three-quarters there with this problem, and if I hadn't been so freaked out I could have solved it.

Stinky Problem #3: A deep sea diving bell, traveling at a constant rate of speed goes down 600 feet in 8 minutes (which sounds like 75 feet per minute, but apparently isn't). It goes 1500 feet in 40 minutes (this sounds like 37.5 feet per minute). How fast was it really going?

Stinky Problem #4: A gas station sells 4289 gallons of gas at $1.35 per gallon; they sell 3570 gallons at $1.40 per gallon. How much could they sell at $1.19 per gallon? (A lot, nowadays!)

I'm still stuck on problems 3 and 4, although I'm sure I got close to solving them too, end even now the solution is tickling the edge of my brain.

I won't trouble you by solving problem 2 here on my blog. But getting 1 and 2 done would have been the difference between B- and A- on this exam. I really could shoot myself!

Can you do them?

algebra test score < acceptable

I had my first algebra exam today. After doing all the required homework problems for each section I was < certain that I was understanding the whole mess. So, with my first exam looming, I went back and worked every single problem in every single section that we'd covered. I looked over my notes, re-read all the instructions in each section, used the "student solution guide" as a help when necessary, and spent every spare minute I had doing algebra. I did algebra problems for two to four hours a day for eight days running, until I thought I'd finally figured out what I was doing. I was even getting through the story problems quite well. So I went to class this afternoon feeling pretty confident in my ability to pass the test, and pass it well.

And then we got our exams. I was unsure of how to solve a few problems, but all of the story problems completely threw me for a loop. Oh, I can do the math, but I couldn't figure out how to set up the problems. And with each problem that I couldn't quite solve, I got more freaked out and tense (that's Loralee taking a test), so my solutions to some of the other questions were . . . questionable. At best I will pass with 80%. That's if I only missed the problems that I either gave up on or ran out of time to puzzle out.

Tonight, in retrospect, I've reached the conclusion that I really did understand how to do all the story problems—in context of doing 15 to 20 of the same type of problem in a row. :-(

I am very sad. I feel very discouraged. I worked my bum off for that pathetic score! Or maybe just my fingers. ≤ 80% is unacceptable! I don't know why, but I feel compelled to be an A student.

B < acceptable.

I am so Awesome! ;-)

Straight A's again—and I worked for it! Yay, me!!
(I'll post pics of my projects soon.)

Crazy-Busy!

School is keeping me extremely busy right now. Every week I make a new pattern of some kind—right now we are working on sleeves, so I make two different sleeves and a bodice to put them on—and then I have to cut them out of muslin and sew them all together. Yes, I do something like this every week for this class. I'm working on a jacket for Adv. Sew, my coat for Tailoring, and three more patterns for Pattern by Measurement. The P by M patterns are finally drawn; now I have to cut them from lovely fabrics and make them to fit me (and hope that they really look nice enough to wear).

Plus all my school and all the kids' school entails a lot of running around, and our van has been out of commission for three weeks. Ben and Tami have been far, far more than extremely generous and kind to us, and have let us use their van all this time. (I think a catered dinner with a lovely dessert is in order for them.) Hopefully our van will be out of the shop tonight—or tomorrow morning.

On top of all that, we have BIG family things in the works that are . . . a little stressful. But I'm not ready to divulge more than that right now. It's just that things here are crazy, crazy-busy!

p.s. Send me a poem for my contest! I could use the break. ;-)

Mother on Strike!

This Mom has gone on strike.

Actually, I got the idea from my Advanced Sewing teacher. I was talking to my friend, Cherylene (who is a mom of five) about how frustrated I've been with the housework. This semester has seemed more difficult than last semester to begin with; and on top of that, I can't do my homework at home without doing two hours of housework first just so I'll have space to do the homework. Toward the end of class Helen, the teacher, often sits and chats with us older ladies in the class as we work. She told me that one of her neighbors put a sign in the yard, "The mother of this house is on strike!" We all laughed.

Fast-forward to Thursday, March 9. I was sick and headachey all day, and I had my evening class to go to. And I had to take the bus besides, which meant I had to rush to get out of the house, leave just as dinner was ready to eat, and leave the house in rather a state (the house and I were both in a state). I told all the kids who were within earshot that after dinner they needed to clean the kitchen and the living room. I said this to them twice. As I ran to the bus- stop I remembered that we had a package of cookies on top of the fridge that the kids had been coveting. So I called the house, and told Lindsey that after they cleaned the kitchen and living room they could have that package of cookies. And then, for good measure, I texted Michael and told him that after dinner the kids all needed to clean the kitchen and living room and after the rooms were clean they could all have the cookies. I think I made myself perfectly clear.

When I got home at 10:35 that night I was tired and starving, so at first I didn't completely notice the state of things. I did see that the dinner dishes had been washed—yay, kids! But after I had my very late dinner I saw that the stove had dried up rice, hard, oily bits of cheese, oil, and grit all over it, and that it was covered with unwashed pans. The counters were not cleaned, the floor was not swept, the sink was filthy and had some dishes piled in it. The living room was untouched. And, adding insult to injury, the empty cookie package was sitting on the kitchen table!!

not my kitchen, but you get the idea

The next day was Friday. No school for me. By the time the kids had gotten ready for school the kitchen sink was heaped with dirty dishes, and the counters were still piled with stuff too. I could get the house whipped into shape, although it would take me the entire time that the kids were in school to do it. But I just plain-old didn't want to. I was wavering on whether or not I should clean up because, after a month with no oven, that very Friday I decided it was worth calling a repair man to at least look at it. (Turns out it was very much worth having the repair man come.) I would die of embarrassment if this guy came in to check out my oven and the kitchen (and particularly the range) was as filthy as it was.

And then I remembered the mom on strike. So I made a sign and hung it in my yard. And I made a list of grievances and proposed solutions and posted it on the front door. I felt a little qualm about it—I knew that it could be embarrassing for the family. But I thought I'd rather let them be embarrassed than be totally mortified—as well as over-worked—myself. So. I am on strike.

Bruce got home before the kids were out of school that afternoon, and he was quite willing to support me and play my game. He said that if I was on strike I'd better not go pick the kids up from school; so he did it. And he made them come in through the front door (instead of through the garage) and he made them all stand around on the front porch and read my STRIKE notice that was posted there before they came in. (Which, I found out later, made the neighbors wonder what was going on.) Then he divvied out the housework—including laundry—amongst them and told them to consider the strike as a permanent thing.

They got the house to look fairly decent that afternoon—not to my standard of perfection, but not so bad. And they did OK on Saturday—especially considering that our stupid plumbing backed up that day (Bruce fixed that—My Hero!).

By Sunday afternoon the house was looking pretty disastrous again. As I worked on fixing dinner (I was going to stop cooking too, but reconsidered since I still want to eat good stuff) . . . As I fixed dinner on Sunday, I thought how nice it was that my spring break was starting this week and I could get the house looking the way I want it to. And then I realized that, no, I can't do that. I want my kids to learn this lesson: There is no slave of the lamp, no magical being that comes to our house to clean up, cook, shop, do laundry, etc. And Mom isn't magical either; she is tired.

So I'm leaving all the housework—except for what I use just for myself—to be done by my family. It might kill me!

Or maybe the kids will step up. I hope so!

Awake . . .

. . . at 4:30 a.m. Initially I woke up to at 3:50 to go to the bathroom. But then I couldn't get back to sleep because my unfinished homework looms over me, watching me toss in my bed. So I got up to work on it, only to find that there is no space for me to work on it. I can clean the kitchen from 4:30 a.m. to 5:30 a.m. so that I can work on school stuff that I still won't have time to finish, or I can sit here being super-tired and blog about it.

So here's a little whine for you.

My Pattern class is making me crazy. Now, I do like patterns, and I still "get it." But I spend every spare minute I have pretty much ignoring my kids, and my house, and almost not even preparing meals, so I can draft, cut out, and sew new patterns instead. This week I've only had time for the drafting of patterns; no sewing got done—a major, HUGE part of the grade each week. And between that class and the mom stuff I have to do I'm not getting any of my other homework done. I'm about three weeks behind in Tailoring—another reason I can't sleep, because that's my first class this morning. I don't have my Pattern by Measurement assignment done; I will scramble to do it tomorrow before class in the evening. I am staying up too late and getting up too early, and am generally stressed-out and unhappy.

Add to all that: one son who aimlessly stays up all night every night, even though he doesn't seem to like it and frequently complains about going nowhere; another son who dropped his core classes in school, opting to take charge of his own education instead (meaning he will study English, math, and history on his own—pretty much unsupervised, since I'm not really able to keep track of what he's doing while I'm in school myself); a husband working three part-time jobs; plans to go to graduate school (Bruce, not me, obviously) and possibly move; and all the normal craziness of life.

I ask myself, "Why am I going to school anyway?" I don't think I've ever been entirely clear about that.

I rationalize, "If we do move I'll be forced to drop the program anyway and I can learn most of it from reading the textbooks. This is what's happening in Patterns, anyway." (True enough.)

I think, "Maybe I should just quit going to classes, and fail them all, and forget about school."

Dropping out sounds like a very relieving thing to do; but this option, I think, would make me feel sad. I don't want to be a quitter—never mind the lovely example this would give my kids.

But I am drowning, drowning, drowning. I should be sleeping now, at 5 a.m. I should gently and kindly tell myself that I can't get the work finished anyway—not before I have to get the kids up, and ready for, and to school—and that another two hours of sleep would serve me better. But my over-excitable brain won't let me sleep.

So, instead, I guess I'd better go get the kitchen clean enough for me to start working.

Four Point Oh!

Check this out:

Yay, me!

Final Projects

I swear mid-terms were just yesterday. Really! And now I've been heaped up with final projects. In two weeks I am supposed to:

• Make a pair of perfectly-fitting jeans for myself. That would be cool. (Intermediate Sewing)
• Design an outfit that has a skirt or pants, a top with sleeves and a collar or facing; make the patterns for that outfit, draw the outfit—front and back— and sew it in half-size to present to the class. (Pattern-Making)
• Design and make a fashion accessory using recycled stuff (anything from clothing to garbage) but without doing any sewing, and present it to the class. It has to be something I would use myself. I'm open to suggestions on this one. (Intro. to Fashion)
• Create a fabric, and design three outfits that would use the fabric, illustrate all the outfits—front and back—and present it all to the class. And have a swatchbook with 91 different fabric samples and their written descriptions in it. (Textiles)
• Put together a personal health journal/notebook, including five researches on health/nutrition. (Body Image)
• And learn a dance, choreograph the last 16 measures of said dance, and perform it (with my group) for the rest of the class. (Belly Dancing)
  

And, on top of all that, I still have final exams and quizzes to study for. No more than a college student should expect, I suppose. But I am so busy that my head is spinning! If I ever get it all done, I'll take pictures of the projects and show them to you. Except for me in my new jeans. We'll have to see how they really turn out. :-)

Can she do it?

Phase 3 . . . Complete? Oh Dear!

I was going to post about how I'd finished phase 3 of the kitchen; the counters. But I've en-"countered" a glitch.

I did actually paint the countertops with a product called Giani Liquid Granite. Although I wouldn't really say they look like granite, they do look awesome! But just before I went to bed last night I saw a terrible thing! A little hole has peeled away right in the middle of my "snack bar." Oh, dear. Well, Giani guarantees 100% satisfaction. I just barely wrote them and let them know that I'm not feeling very satisfied right now. :-( So I'll let you know how that all turns out.

In the meantime, I'll tell you about our adventure, and I'll still post the before and after pics.

First, before I worked on the counters, Bruce fixed up the whole microwave thing. So phase "somewhere down the road" really is finished. To get the microwave into the right space he had to take out the center cabinet and move it higher. Then, you'll recall, he had to do some re-wiring and put in an outlet for the microwave. I'd thought it would hard-wire into the house, being a wall-mounted appliance, but it has an electrical cord on the top. So Bruce also had to put the new outlet inside the newly-moved cabinet, and make a hole in the bottom of the cabinet for the plug to fit through. He did a fantastic job; I have an awesome husband!

gotta love a man who'll work in the kitchen!

As for the counters, I ordered my "liquid granite" at the end of August—right as I was starting school. So I was impatiently waiting for fall break, when I'd have 72 solid hours to work on it (it takes about two days, with all the drying time).

First I had to use their awesome black primer. Just the primer looked pretty cool on the counters, but that would really be a lot of black in my kitchen, wouldn't it? Then I sponged on the other paints, and finally added the topcoat. It looked really terrific! Until it—probably got a chip somehow—and peeled.

:-(

I'm sure the company will do something to help me out. They are fairly new, and they want people to love them—as all companies do. But I wonder if I'll have to start the entire process over again? Because, yes, I am fairly determined not to revert to 1990's mauve counters.

before

after

before

after

The Great Kitchen Project, in Progress . . .

Last weekend I did finish phase 2: the painting of the kitchen walls. And I went down one side of the hallway as well. And, on top of that, Bruce finished phase "somewhere down the road," too. Unfortunately, that phase needs to be redone. I'll tell you all about it:

At about the time I started on the kitchen, our microwave totally pooped out. This isn't such a big deal—I pretty much grew up without a microwave, and didn't have my own until after 10 years of marriage, after all. Hmm. It was very convenient for re-heating leftovers though.

Well, last weekend Bruce and I were shopping at the D.I. (the local thrift store) for a much-needed bookshelf. They didn't have the bookshelf, but they did have a white, over-the-range microwave oven for $10. We took it to an electrical outlet and discovered that it worked, and also that it still had a Corelle plate with a paper towel and a chicken nugget in it. Yuck! Then we saw another one that looked even newer and better (but no chicken nuggets inside) and it still worked too! So we bought it, and Bruce installed it. This was a bigger job than you might think, involving adding a new outlet and moving the cabinet above the stove up a little higher. But he got it done, it looked lovely and it worked. For 24 hours.

See, our house was wired by idiots. Seriously. The living room, all the kitchen lights, some of the kitchen outlets, the front yard light and, I think, Brandon & Ryan's bedroom, and maybe the garage door-opener are all on the same circuit. This means that if, say, in the winter-time when it's dark in the evening, we decide to vacuum our house while someone is cooking dinner, all the power in the living room and kitchen goes out. Well, guess which breaker the microwave ended up on?

So while we were working in the kitchen, and Kaylie was watching TV, and Rachel was coloring in the living room, someone decided to reheat something. It tripped the breaker—twice. The third time it just blew the fuse in the microwave.

Undaunted, Bruce went to get another microwave. He is going to find a different way of wiring it and get it installed this weekend.

And I will be working on phase 3: counter-tops. "But, wait a minute," you say. "Paint? On the counter-tops?"

You'll see. Exciting things are happening in my kitchen!

Fall Break

Fall break officially started yesterday for Michael and me. Michael has taken advantage of this break by sleeping in, reading, and playing games. I am taking advantage of it by mixing paint for my kitchen !!, spray-painting a vase to cover the color I didn't like (not sure if I'm making things better here), and doing lots of homework and mid-term projects.

I'm pretty excited about the kitchen paint. A month or two ago I sent out a call to all my friends for leftover whitish/creamish-colored paint that they may have. My sweet friend, Bethannie, has a sweet husband who is a contractor. They had lots of leftover paint. So I took the paint she gave me and mixed it with some caramel-colored sample-size paints, plus some rust-red paint that we had, and I've come up with 2 1/2 gallons of a color that's very similar to the paint-chip I picked out at Home Depot. Yay! Today I'm painting all the walls that touch my kitchen counters. We actually only have three walls in the kitchen; I'm painting two. The third wall extends into the living room and will be painted an accent color—probably the rust-red. I guess this means I will be painting my living room, too. Darn! ;-)

Anyway, the plan is to slap a coat of paint on the kitchen walls this morning, then do homework while that first coat dries. I'm hoping to have all ten square feet coated and re-coated by the time I get the kids from school this afternoon. Cool, huh!

More Updates . . .

Well, I've been in school for three days now. So far all my classes look interesting; the least exciting is Intro. to Fashion—an overview of the fashion world. Actually, the lecture was interesting, but the 50 minute fashion review video (lights out, sound too low) was not so great. Weird clothes on skeletal women. Nice. But I'm excited about my pattern-making class, and the body image class sounds like it will be fascinating.

AND

Now I have more pictures of
THE GREAT KITCHEN PROJECT
(Can you just hardly wait?)

To paint the front of the cabinet the right way, I had to remove the back panel first (so the dishwasher door wouldn't be in the way) . Not very attractive. But it's all back together now, and quite lovely.


before . . .

in progress; I did do some drawer repair. Yay, me!

all finished!

So, it's coming along! Next up: Repairing and painting the walls.

Kitchen Update

The Great Kitchen Project . . .

Well, two weeks into the project, phase 1-A of the kitchen is done: I've got all the upper cabinets painted and the doors re-hung. It took a little longer than I'd hoped, what with back-to-school shopping and physicals, and re-tinting the paint—and so having to apply about a thousand coats.

But I did finish 1-A—this morning, in fact. This afternoon was spent in really cleaning the kitchen; for the first time in two weeks, it is bee-yoo-tifully clean. Aahhhh. ☺

And, lucky you, I decided to post pictures of the work as it progresses,

so you don't have to wait to see my colors.

An unexpected side-effect of the new paint color (which is called "Phantom Mist" —which always makes me think of "Phantom Menace" (do we see too much Star Wars around here?). Ahem. The unexpected side-effect is that the mauve countertops don't look quite so obnoxious when they're paired with the Phantom Mist. I still don't love them, but they are more palateable.

This will never do

Phase 1-B is to sand and paint the bottom set of cabinets. I wonder if I can figure out how to repair, reinforce, reconstruct, my flimsy drawers while I'm at it. The kitchen drawers—not my unmentionables!

Kids, wood, and knives don't mix

I'll keep you posted as I go!

more of . . .

. . . The Great Kitchen Project

it continues:

On days 11 and 12 (July 26-27) I took the cupboard doors out into the garage and sanded them. And sanded them and sanded them. This took several hours, and the vibrations of the electric sander—three hours at a time—made my hands and arms ache for days. But then, what do you imagine they'd feel like if I wasn't using an electric sander?


On days 13 and 14 (July 28-29) I started painting the sanded cabinets and some of the doors. I will not tell you the color. Ha!!


Well, first I had to empty all the cupboards.

Then I had this terrific idea that I could use acrylic craft paints to paint the cupboards—it would be inexpensive, easy to mix colors, it lets the wood-grain show through a little, and it's easy to clean up. I figured I could just cover over it with an acrylic sealer/varnish and all would be well. After I'd painted more than half of everything, I started wondering if this was really such a brilliant idea. So I talked to the people who make the craft paint, and I talked to the people at a paint store. And I learned that all of the good things I thought of were true. But I also found out that the required three coats of polycrylic sealer would be much more expensive than the one gallon of latex paint I'd need for the whole project. Hmm. So now the plan is that the acrylic craft paint is the primer coat, and tomorrow I'm going to get a gallon of acrylic-latex paint to do the top coat. The upper set of cupboards will be all done this week. :-)

More to come . . .

The Great Kitchen Project

Today is the first installment of
The Great Kitchen Project


Days 1-4 (July 16-19): I'm still using the "think system."

Days 5-6 (July 20-21): I removed all the upper cabinets' doors, washed those cabinets and sanded them. I think that just cleaning up all those greasy dust bunnies that collect up top should count as a remodel all by itself. Icky work! And after all my scrubbing, the electric sander still removed an amazing amount of built-up goo. It occurs to me that sanding your cabinets is a truly marvelous way to get them clean. Of course, this may lead to problems in the size of your cabinetry after a while.

On Day 6 (yesterday) I also removed the hood/vent from above the stove, thinking that if I really wanted to do a good, beautiful, professional-looking job I would paint behind the hood too. And, besides, it really (really) needed some extra scrubbing. When I saw the idiotic—and probably not quite code—way the thing was wired, I changed my mind about my "professional" paint job that would include painting behind the hood (because I also saw that it would include re-routing the wires in a decent way and doing a major wall repair. Just keep that hidden behind the hood, thanks). I did still label all the wires with different colored markers, and some with different types of tape, and took the hood down and spent an hour and a half scrubbing it. Unfortunately, while I was cleaning, some of my tape slipped off of some of the wires. I put the sparkly-clean hood back, but how on earth do the wires go back together?

Day 7 (July 22): Bruce is trying to figure out and repair my hood-wiring fiasco—apparently the wires connected to the hood are also connected to the outlet we use for the stove. Fortunately it's just a regular outlet and not a super-duper 220 outlet (because we have a gas stove); so we could plug it into another close-by outlet. Still, we gotta get that fixed!
And today I need to get the kitchen clean before I can really do anything else. Perhaps I'll sand the doors today, if there's time after the cleaning and the mom-stuff.

Exciting!

I am going to remodel my kitchen! Well, at least I am remodeling everything that can be done with paint. That counts, doesn't it? And I am so excited!

I have discovered that I am simply the kind of person who is just plain-old happier with a big project to keep my brain—and my hands—occupied at all times. Well, I've known this for a while. But it's sinking in more that this is not such a bad thing. So I'm going to re-do my kitchen.

Later today (when the kitchen is clean) I will take some "before" pictures to post. And I'll keep you posted as the project rolls along (watch the sidebar). Wish me luck!

Notice the mauve countertops, yellowish, piney-colored cabinets

and white walls. And the curtains—when all else is done,

they may need a change, too.

A Rotten Adventure

The foulest stench is in the air, the funk of forty thousand years . . .

Actually it's just the funk of a couple of days, which is much worse, because in forty thousand years the stench would be completely gone.

Yesterday Bruce noticed that our garage was rather stinky. I did not notice—at first—because our garage is full of smelly things like bug-killer, fertilizer, lawn mowers, and gas cans; and also because I've had hay-fever for the last three weeks which means I have a very stuffy nose. But by 10 p.m. it was definitely reeking out there, and Bruce figured out why: someone had unplugged the chest freezer we keep in the garage. Now this story would be entirely different if this had happened in the dead of winter when we can use the entire garage for a freezer; but right now we are in the longest, hottest, sunniest days of summer. What is with us and rotting meat? If it's not a dead mouse, then it's a freezer full of poultry! Ugh!

Trash pick-up day was yesterday morning, so we were stumped to find a way of disposing of the mess. We couldn't leave it rotting in a black trash can, in the sun, every day for the next week. My parents' trash day is today, but I was sure they were already in bed at 10:30 last night and wouldn't answer the phone, and I didn't want to just sneak a lot of rotten meat into their trash can. Finally we decided to just plug the freezer back in; I figured everything would freeze back up which would clear away the smell until next week when we could put the meat into our own trash can and then we could clean the freezer. Well, it turns out that last night was a hot, hot night; was it possible for everything to be frozen again? The smell in the garage—which had Tucker delicately sniffing toward the door as if he could smell some sweet perfume—and the swarm of flies around the freezer (which sits right next to the door into the house) convinced me that we had no such luck.

all those years of ballet classes were not wasted: I had to stand on my toes and lift my other leg to be able to reach into the bottom of the freezer.

I tried calling my parents to see if I could still sneak the stuff into their trash can, but they didn't answer the phone. Then I called Melanie to see if—by any miraculous chance—she knew when their trash pick-up was. She didn't; but, by a stroke of luck, her trash hadn't been picked up yet today. So I rushed over with about 60 pounds of semi-thawed, smelly meat, and some formerly frozen apricots. Getting it out of the freezer was gaggy: that sick, sweet smell that meat gets, in combination with a vinegary smell from the apricots. (I know . . . thanks for sharing, Loralee!) After I dropped my disaster into Melanie's trash can (with her permission, of course) I washed my hands and then drove away with a feeling of paranoia that the truck wouldn't go through her neighborhood for some awful reason and then she'd be stuck with the stench, and the fly-factory, until next week. Oh, that would be terrible—I'd feel guilty forever!

On the way home from Melanie's house I thought perhaps I'd better ask Michael to finish cleaning the bathroom for me so I could get right to cleaning the freezer. (I stopped in the middle of that job so I could get to Melanie's before the garbage truck did). And then I had a most clever—perhaps bordering on conniving—idea! The kids were already cleaning the house this morning; they were doing the kitchen, living-room, and laundry-room, while I did the bathroom. They were almost finished with their work when I got back home. So I gathered them all together; praised their work, and told them that we had to do three more jobs this morning; I'd do one and they could do the others—and they got to choose which two they'd do. The jobs were 1. clean the inside of the van, including vacuuming; 2. mop the kitchen, hallway, and bathroom; 3. clean out the smelly freezer.

After I finished up cleaning the bathroom I went out to tackle the freezer. It was a very nasty two hours; but with a bandanna to cover my nose and mouth, a wet-dry vac, old rags (which I threw away as soon as the job was finished), some bleach, and lots of water, I got it all done.

Which was worse? Cleaning up after 60 pounds of spoiled meat, or cleaning up after a 2-ounce mouse? The mouse was definitely worse.

And anyway, at the end of this rotten adventure I also ended up with a clean floor and a clean van!

Do You Ever Feel Like This?

I took this picture one day soon after we moved into our house. I'd been trying to clean up after five kids all day long, while Bruce was working late, and with pretty much NO help.


Know the feeling?

Who does the dishes?

The results are in on the dishwashing poll. 19 people—12 guys and 7 girls—voted (Thanks!).

Statistics say that:
75% of guys prefer to unload, while only three of the 12 male voters(25%) prefer loading.
Of the seven girls who voted, 86% would rather load the dishwasher, while only 14% (one lady) likes to unload.
68% of all voters, male and female, prefer to unload the dishwasher.
And one person said that she'd rather load or unload the dishwasher than mop the floor. Which was not a question here, but I'm on her side of that issue.

Something that sparked my curiosity is that 19 people voted, and most of the voters (63%) were male. Even if Bruce and all my sons voted, that still leaves seven unknown male voters. I thought that only about five people ever even looked at my blog, and most of those readers are female. I did send out some emails to get more people to vote and I guess they did, but who were the voters? I am dying of curiosity! So I guess I should never run for any kind of office with a secret ballot.

But to return to the main point:

Here's something interesting, which could spur another poll entirely (but I'll spare you): While at a Mother-Daughter activity last week I asked around about the whole dishwasher thing. Without fail every adult woman that I talked to—every mom—said she'd much rather load the dishwasher, while all the daughters would rather unload it. I won't even guess at the psychology behind all that. But I'll tell you, kids could save the whole family a lot of grief by just unloading the dishwasher in a timely fashion.


So there you go, moms. The statistics prove that your kids or your husband, and not you, should be the one to unload the dishwasher. Print this and stick it up on your fridge. ;-)

Strange phenomenon?

Last night my parents came over for dinner, and for Kaylie's birthday (she just turned nine!). And while we were talking my mom revealed that she hates unloading the dishwasher—she would much rather load the dishwasher than unload it.

Hm. I feel exactly the same way. I hate unloading the dishwasher! But what's really funny is that a little while back Melanie told me the exact same thing—she'd rather load the dishwasher herself and make her kids unload it.

So this sounds kind of like it's just a weird family thing. But Mom also said that she was talking to one of her friends, and the friend said that she hates unloading too!

So I'm curious. Is this a girl thing? Or just a strange coincidence? So, answer my poll on the right—and get your friends to answer it too so I can have a wide sampling.
Are you a girl who'd rather load or unload the dishwasher; a guy who'd rather load or unload?
Could we solve all kinds of social ills by getting the right people to do the right part of the dishwashing?